


Tales and Tipples

by felandaris



Series: Caboodles and Chantry Boys [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mourning, no sex in this!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felandaris/pseuds/felandaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble on friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales and Tipples

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kamille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamille/gifts).



> For the wonderful Kamille.  
> Thank you eravalefantasy for helping with the beginning.  
> TW: Mourning, alcohol

“… and then Elissa asked him, _What are you doing eating Leliana’s soap?_ But Oghren was so drunk, all he managed was this big burp- and out came a load of bubbles!”

 

All three of them burst out in laughter, holding their stomachs as it shakes them.

 

Alistair’s own cackles are nearly deafening, his wine-flushed cheeks reddening a bit more as his shoulders shake and his fist pounds onto the table again and again.

 

Suddenly the half-empty glasses and crumbly remainders of smelly cheese blur in front of him. When he blinks there’s a hot sting in his eyes – just as his chest tightens, his shoulders tense, his fingers shake.

 

He wants to blame Antivan red; wants this to stop. When he sniffs unwittingly he rises, looking for an escape.

 

But they don't let him. At once they’re by his side, not even wobbly despite the three bottles that were shared. Before he can react they’re holding him. Slender arms wrapping around his left side. Tousled curls brushing against his right temple.

 

A frantic shake of his head as he tries to wave them off. He doesn’t want this. These two, who have given him so much, in so many ways, deserve far better than this pathetic, drink-induced display.

 

And yet there’s more tears still; he bites down hard to stop the pathetic tremble of his lips, curses himself for that high-pitched sob- _and is that snot threading down from his nose_?

 

He makes another attempt to speak, to say it’s all right and _please don’t worry_. But he doesn’t get to, is shushed by two rough, warm fingers on his mouth. Her quiet hum soothes the burn in his chest just a fraction. Enough for him to take a deep breath and wipe his eyes.

 

When he looks to his right, Cullen’s eyes are the first thing he sees. The understanding, acceptance, encouragement burning in their depths almost makes him tear up again.

 

Another incredulous shake of this head, then the corners of mouth twitch up into a tiny smile. Resting his head against a strong shoulder, he feels her tight embrace almost close around his torso.

 

He wants to express his gratitude, opens his mouth once more. Again they shush him, hold him closer. Together they stand for a blissfully endless moment. Alistair finds comfort in their breathing, their heartbeats, their warmth.

 

And it's together that they drift towards the bed. For the first time they just lie there, and he falls asleep with two protective arms around him.

 

When Alistair wakes the next morning they’re still holding him. He couldn’t be happier to have them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> [Find me (and the boys) on Tumblr!](https://http://cullenstairshenanigans.t%20Tumblr.com) ʘ‿ʘ


End file.
